


Turnaround

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-01
Updated: 2005-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 07:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Futurefic.  Superman rescues Lex Luthor.  An old fanfic chestnut, but more complicated than the usual sort.  Clark has a crush; Lex has issues; Mercy has an attitude; and it's all fun and games until somebody loses a cherry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turnaround

## Turnaround

by Nuala

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/nualanightbloom>

* * *

Title: Turnaround 

Author: Nuala (nightbloomingjasmine@hotmail.com) 

Pairing: Clark/Lex 

Rating: NC-17 

Warnings: AU -- a mishmash of Smallville, Superman comics, Justice League, and some weird universe that exists only in my head. Also, beware Canadian spellings. 

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to someone else. Don't sue -- you can't get blood from a turnip. 

A/N: Holy crap, I wrote a mainstream pairing. I _never_ do that. Written for the virgin!Lex challenge (<http://www.livejournal.com/community/virginlex/>). Thanks to my betas: the first half of this fic is readable largely due to Private Tentacle's expert intervention; thanks to her, Lacey McBain, Obscura, and Blandine for commentary and encouragement. Any remaining errors are mine, not theirs. 

* * *

Lex Luthor was seated in a chair, watching the numbers on a LCD display. In usual circumstances -- say, watching stock prices on the display in his office in the LexCorp tower -- this would not be cause for alarm. 

Lex' present circumstances were far from usual. The chair he sat on was a cheap, uncomfortable plastic affair. More alarmingly, his hands and feet were bound. He was also in considerable pain; his nose dripped blood onto his shirt, one eye was swollen shut, the fingers of one hand were mangled, burns on his neck still throbbed, and at least two of his ribs were cracked, in addition to a variety of other contusions, cuts, and bruises. 

Most importantly, the LCD numbers he could see with his one good eye were ticking down the countdown on a shockingly powerful bomb that sat in the windowless room with Lex. 

He didn't struggle or scream. He knew the men who had beaten and tied him, after all, and knew the man who had sent them. Morgan Edge's hired goons were good at what they did. When they tied up a man, he stayed tied up. 

No one would hear him if he was to cry out. Even Superman was unlikely to hear Lex here. Lex wasn't sure he wanted to be heard anyway. 

Instead, he contemplated his impending death. It wasn't really so bad, he supposed. He had neither friends nor family. Lionel had died eight years ago of a rare degenerative liver disease. After three remarkably ill-advised marriages, Lex had decided to embrace bachelorhood. No loved ones to mourn him. That was good. 

Lex had regrets, of course. He supposed that dedicating his life's work to annoying and/or destroying Superman _had_ been rather petty of him. Developing Kryptonite ore to be used in potentially destructive projects certainly didn't sit easily on his conscience. 

And he was very, very lonely. No one wanted to get too close to a known villain, not even a rich, charming one. 

Fitting that he was dying alone, he supposed, tied to a chair inside one of LexCorp's more isolated warehouses. He who lives by the sword.... 

10\. 9. 8. Lex closed his good eye for the final few seconds. 

Despite himself, Lex flinched when he anticipated the counter's switch from "1" to "0." Instead of an explosion, though, Lex felt himself being snatched up and borne away, chair and all. The sound of the explosion registered, but it was strangely distant. 

He felt cold wind whip past his face. Strong arms held him to a broad chest. He opened his eye a fraction. 

Lex gasped, his cracked ribs protesting loudly. He was still tied to a chair, but the chair was flying hundreds of yards above the ground. Christ, he _hated_ flying. 

Incredibly, Superman had rescued Lex Luthor. 

On that thought, Lex blacked out, whether from the swift ascent, pain and loss of blood, or the sheer shock of seeing Clark close up again after all these years. 

When Lex drifted back into consciousness, the first thing he noticed was a distinct lack of pain. Lex had enough experience with losing consciousness to sense that not enough time had passed for even _him_ to heal completely. 

The mental disconnect was further complicated by the awareness that he was also warm, cradled in soft fabric, and apparently completely naked. _Do_ _not_ _panic_ , he thought to himself. 

"Don't get all worked up, Luthor," said a familiar voice. 

Lex opened his eyes to see Superman seated across the room from him. Though the term "room" was a fairly loose descriptor for the space Lex found himself in. It was cavern-like, with a high, spheroid, domed ceiling, and smooth, cornerless walls. The room was softly lit, but Lex couldn't identify a light source; the place itself seemed to glow. The air was cool, though the fibreless red fabric enveloping him was warm. 

Lex sat up gingerly, anticipating pain in his ribs, but there was only a dull ache. 

"You had three cracked ribs," Superman informed him, apparently reading his mind for the second time. "Also, a broken nose, a moderate concussion, three cigarette burns on your neck, and four broken fingers." 

"And a partridge in a pear tree," Lex replied, his voice slightly hoarse. "Where have you brought me, Superman? There will be people looking for me..." 

"Right. The same people who failed to find you in that warehouse?" 

Lex set his jaw stubbornly. He hated Superman, and he _hated_ being naked. Rescued and healed by his most hated enemy, and utterly vulnerable. This situation was entirely unacceptable. "I never called for your help, Kent." 

Clark, still in his Superman persona, flinched. But he replied quickly enough, "Gratitude was never your strong point, Luthor." 

"That's bullshit and you know it," Lex snarled. " _You_ were the one always demanding something from me. All _I_ ever wanted was...." Lex stopped himself in time. "I did _everything_ for your family, and all I ever got was your scorn." It was the same old argument, but Lex couldn't stop himself. His priorities went out the window as soon as Superman was involved. 

Clark was silent for a moment. "You're in my home base," Clark told him. "We're far from Metropolis. You're safe here. I brought you here because ... it seemed best. Edge's men will be looking for you. Taking you to a hospital would put you at risk, not to mention the other people in the hospital, and you needed help right away." 

"You know Toby would have..." 

"I didn't have time to track him down. You were bleeding internally." 

"I would have healed on my own soon enough," Lex grumbled. 

Clark rolled his eyes. "The countdown on that bomb was down to zero. You don't heal _that_ fast." 

Lex huffed and sank back into the soft pallet he was on. Healed or no, he was exhausted. "Will you please give me some clothes and take me home?" he asked. "I can't imagine you want me here any more than I want to be here, so..." 

"The AI told me you should stay here until your bones have completely knit," Clark replied. 

Lex was startled enough not to be annoyed at the delay. "The what?" 

Clark blinked. "This place has an artificial intelligence system built into its structure. It's based on the programmed memories of my parents -- my birth parents, from Krypton. This whole place responds to my needs. It healed you, and it's monitoring your progress as we speak." 

Lex glanced down at his body. There were no medical devices that he could see. Maybe it was scanning him invisibly, or from somewhere in the walls.... 

A corner of Clark's mouth twitched up briefly. "I always knew you'd be fascinated by this place," he said softly. 

Lex glanced at him sharply. To hear Clark Kent's shy, uncertain voice coming from Superman's spandex-clad body... it was disorienting. He wanted to go home. He wanted to not be naked, to have a glass or three of Scotch, and to start the process of permanently eliminating Morgan Fucking Edge and his band of merry hit men. 

"Listen, Superman. I need to get back to Metropolis and start monitoring the situation that led to ... the circumstance you found me in. You need to take me back _now_ , or there will be consequences." 

"Consequences?" 

"If you think you can just abduct me, and hold me against my will..." 

"Fine!" Clark stood swiftly, his cape flowing around him. "Just when I thought we could talk, for once, on neutral territory -- " 

" _Neutral_? This is your home base!" 

Jaw clenched, Superman swept Lex, blanket and all, off the pallet. "Have it your way, Luthor." 

Suddenly they were flying through the place, doors appearing to let them through what had Lex thought were solid walls. Then the light hit Lex's eyes, brilliant and searing, and the wind was frigidly cold on his bare scalp. Forcing himself to keep his eyes open, Lex watched the ice beneath them turn to water, then to land. The sight of solid ground so far below him was terrifying, but less so than the prospect of looking into Clark's eyes. Or worse, into Superman's cold blue eyes, eyes that had none of Clark's warmth or vitality. 

Within moments, they were touching down on the edge of Lex's penthouse balcony. As soon as Superman, cringing, set Lex down, he took off again, not even glancing back. Lex stared balefully at the carved Kryptonite statues along the wall. 

Standing, he gathered the strange red fabric around his body. His clothes were probably gone forever, not that they had been salvageable after the ordeal of... the night before? The day before? Lex had better get on top of things, hopefully before Edge and his cronies became aware of his rescue. 

Lex dragged himself into the suite. First, contact Mercy. Then a shower, clothes, and some food. He had work to do. 

* * *

"I _told_ you not to make the drop without me," Mercy ground out as Lex sipped his Scotch. "I am your _bodyguard_. I can scarcely guard your body if you insist on keeping its whereabouts a secret from me!" 

Lex merely raised his eyebrows as he continued to drink. 

Incensed, she went on. "You knew Edge wasn't going to just take the money and quietly leave this city alone, Lex -- he wants you exterminated. And with only you seriously opposing him and half of Metropolis in his pocket, he has no reason to hold back." 

Lex sighed. "This is not news to me, Mercy." 

Glaring, she settled onto a chair opposite him. "I still don't understand how you escaped. We were looking everywhere for you. If you were in the warehouse just before it blew, we should have found you!" 

"The details of my escape are unimportant," Lex said in a tone that signalled the discussion was over. Mercy narrowed her eyes, but kept her peace. Lex swallowed the last of his Scotch. "Now, here's how we're going to deal with this. I've kept some files back at the mansion near Smallville since before Lionel died. I'd hoped I'd never need them, but...." Lex stood and paced slowly back and forth. "The files contain evidence -- photos, videos, audio tapes, and written records -- outlining some of Edge's more reprehensible activities. Unfortunately, my father is heavily implicated as well. There's no way for me to separate them." Lex stopped and sighed, staring at a spot on the wall. 

"I don't see what the problem is, then," Mercy said. "Go public with the files. Even if people _do_ associate your father with LexCorp, your PR people will easily deflect the blow to the company." 

Lex sighed again. He went to pour himself another glass of Scotch. "No," he said firmly. "I won't go public unless I have to. I'm sure Edge and I can work out an agreement of some sort, if I agree to keep the documents private. I'll need to get to the mansion as soon as possible," he told her. "We'll use the tunnel." 

She nodded. "I'll go prepare the pod. It's not safe for you to be outside the penthouse for long." 

Lex sipped, savouring the burn of liquor in his mouth. "I can contact Edge from the mansion easily enough," he said, absently. He glanced up. "Go now, Mercy. The sooner we get this charade started, the better." 

"Yes, Mr. Luthor," Mercy saluted him, half-mocking, as she stood to leave. "I'll have the transport ready within the hour. And remember: don't go near the windows, don't open the door to anyone but me, don't use the phone or Internet." 

Lex gave a small half-smile. "You think I need to be told to lay low when I'm at the top of the hit list of every assassin in the city?" 

"Every assassin but one, Lex," she deadpanned. Then she smiled back, looking feral. "And of course you need to be told. You have the survival instincts of a depressed lemming. You're lucky you've hired Metropolis's finest assassin to defend you against the rest of them." 

Lex raised his glass to her. As she exited, he slipped all the locks into place. It wouldn't do to have more of Edge's bully boys descend on him in his own home. Mercy would kill him. 

Abruptly, he swallowed his entire glass of Scotch, and quickly poured another, which he drank as quickly. Anaesthetizing himself against what he had to do. Where he had to go. There had been no love lost between Lex and his father, certainly not towards the end, but Lex had at least made peace with his memories. Now he was symbolically digging up his father's corpse for one last round. It made him feel like a complete bastard. 

Nor did Lex relish the prospect of returning to Smallville. That had been another lifetime for Lex, his last chance of being a good person. 

It hadn't worked out. All those years of small-town hicks assuming Lex was some kind of sophisticated playboy. All those marriages. Christ. What a grim farce. 

Lex had been so lonely. He'd always been a freak, and outsider, even before the meteor shower. Clark had been the best thing to ever happen to Lex. 

And the worst. When Clark's lies and accusations had finally pushed Lex away for good, it had broken something inside Lex. He had thought it would be his one chance to really be close to someone.... But it hadn't worked. The "friendship of legend" stuff had been such bullshit. Lex's destiny was to be alone. 

Lex forbore to drink any more. He would need his wits about him, at least until the threat Edge posed was eliminated. Lex calculated that the information in the files would be very useful only as a bargaining tool to force Edge out of the country for good. If he went to the media with it, Edge was probably resourceful enough to go underground before he could be arrested. Underground and uncontrolled, Edge was even more of a threat than he was now, though his legitimate influence and freedom of movement would vanish. Better to bargain with him, control him. Lex smiled grimly as Mercy entered to tell him the pod was ready. Edge would be brought to heel like the dog he was. 

A trip from Metropolis to Smallville took three hours by car. Lex often made the trip by helicopter in 45 minutes. But many years ago, Lex had commissioned a tunnel between the mansion at Smallville and the LexCorp building in Metropolis. Lined with lead and fitted with a monorail capable of shuttling a pod large enough for four people between the endpoints at nearly 300 miles per hour, it had cost a fortune to build and another fortune to keep secret. Lex had never used it, sensing the need to keep it secret. He never _had_ shared his toys with others, and he wasn't about to start. 

Twenty minutes later, Mercy, armed to the teeth, led Lex through a maze of back passages down to the pod dock in an unlisted subbasement of the LexCorp building. Thinking the level of secrecy was overkill -- they were still in the LexCorp building, after all -- he kept huming the theme from "Mission: Impossible" under his breath, earning glares from Mercy. They climbed into the pod, and were soon rocketing along the sparsely lit tunnel, exiting thirty minutes later into the mostly empty wine cellar of the mansion. They made their way carefully to the floor safe in what Lex thought of as his fencing gallery. 

Mercy stood at his back as Lex, now serious, prised up the dusty floorboards. The mansion was deserted, but there was always the outside chance that Edge's men were watching it. Laying the boards aside, he swiftly opened the preliminary safe, lifted out the phoney documents and bills it contained, removed the false bottom and started work on the deeper safe concealed beneath. 

"We don't have all day, you know," Mercy snapped at him. 

Lex smiled grimly to himself. "You can't rush these things, Mercy. The mechanism on the inner safe is armed with poisonous needles and razor-wire garrottes. I want to get this _right_." 

"I have a bad feeling about this," she muttered. "Something isn't right." 

"You're paranoid, Mercy." 

"Just because I'm paranoid doesn't -- " 

"...mean they aren't out to get you," Lex finished. 

"Better paranoid than dead," Mercy replied archly. She cocked an ear to the window. "Something's in the yard," she said softly, readying one of her smaller guns. 

"Probably some of Poppy's sheep," Lex said absently as he deftly manipulated the safe's mechanisms. "I rent land to her since we released her from Level 33.1. Would you please calm down? Nothing is going to happen." 

Mercy snorted, but holstered her weapon. "I hate it when you say that. Just... hurry, Lex. Please. I want this over." 

Lex finally popped the lid of the inner safe, quickly removing the files and replacing the lid, false bottom, and diversionary contents. As he replaced the floorboards, he remarked, "I suppose I should sweep some dust around in here, or have the cleaning people stop by. No sense in advertising where this safe is." 

"Whatever. Can we go now?" 

"To my office. I can use the secure uplink to contact Edge and strike a deal." 

"Fine, just hurry. Come on -- _Lex_! _Get_ _down_!" 

Lex had known and trusted Mercy for years. When she said to duck, Lex knew he'd damn well better _duck_. He threw himself to the ground as a stained-glass window shattered. He glanced up. Mercy had two impressive guns aimed at Superman's chest. He had his hands in the air -- Superman knew Mercy too, and knew her well enough to recognize that at least one of those guns was loaded with Kryptonite bullets. 

"Superman," Mercy snarled. 

"Easy, Mercy," Lex said calmly. He stood, carefully shaking himself free of glass shards. "Don't shoot him. Yet." He looked coolly at Clark. Not for the first time, he was reminded that there was indeed a worse look for Clark than plaid flannel. Really, the primary-coloured spandex was too much. "Didn't your mother teach you to knock first?" he asked sardonically. 

Superman glanced over at Lex, but didn't move or lower his hands. "Luthor. I was ... patrolling. I saw people in here. I'd thought this place was abandoned, and assumed it was being broken into." 

"So you... broke into it." God, Lex _loved_ sarcasm. 

Vague annoyance clouded Superman's otherwise passive features. "I decided to investigate..." 

"By crashing through my stained-glass window." 

Now Superman wouldn't meet his eye. "I had to make sure the thieves wouldn't get away." 

"This sounds awfully extreme, Superman. Breaking and entering to catch a simple thief in an abandoned house isn't exactly your M.O." 

Glancing at Mercy, Superman replied, "Considering the ... conditions of our last meeting, I was worried. I recognized your skeleton --" 

"You _what_?" 

"I _said_ I recognized your skeleton, Luthor. I was scanning the mansion with X-ray vision. I saw another figure standing over you, holding guns... I came to the faulty, but entirely justifiable, conclusion that you were being held up in here." 

"Well, I wasn't being held up. I'm sure you recognize my bodyguard, Mercy Graves, from your numerous encounters." 

Mercy smiled tightly and saluted Clark with one of her guns. The other stayed trained on the splashy "S" on Superman's chest. 

"Now that that's all cleared up, I do have some business to attend to," Lex went on. "I'm sure you can find your own way out, though I hope you'll use the same window to exit. I'd hate to have to replace _two_ windows...." 

"Wait!" "Quiet!" Clark and Mercy spoke at the same time. Mercy swung one gun toward the door to the hallway. Clark lowered his hands and turned to face the same direction. Lex had about four seconds to wonder what the hell was going on when the door burst open and three men armed with shotguns charged them. 

The men were a step above the thugs who had ambushed Lex as he negotiated with Edge last time. They were large and strong, and obviously trained in the martial arts. Their faces were masked, and aside from their shotguns they carried knives of various sizes and shapes strapped to their bodies. Alone, Lex would have been easy prey. 

However, between Superman and Mercy, all three intruders were laid low within ten seconds. Lex barely had time to stumble away from the fight, the files clutched to his chest. Superman knocked one intruder against the wall with such force that he didn't move once he hit the floor; Mercy quickly shot first one, then another in the kneecap -- a favourite target, Lex knew -- and produced a thin, strong length of rope with which she and Superman expertly bound all three. 

Superman looked at Mercy with respect in his eyes. "Not bad, assassin." 

She smiled evilly, fired up from the brief action. "Not bad yourself, alien. I gotta respect anyone who defends the boss." 

Superman smiled and was about to reply when Lex interrupted. 

"If I may intrude on this delightful small talk," he said, striding back across the room, "I think we should interrogate the last conscious invader before he passes out too." Lex knelt by the three bound men, next to the only one who was still moving. He tried not to look at the glistening pulp that had been the man's knee as he pulled off the mask covering his face. "Tell me what I need to know or I'll arrange for you to be in substantially more pain. Who do you work for?" Lex suspected he already knew the answer, but certainty held its appeal. 

The man drew a ragged breath, but said nothing. 

Lex felt impatience nag at his mind. He needed to contact Edge about these files _now_ , but Edge had probably sent these men to the mansion. Lex wanted to see all the cards on the table before he showed his hand. 

"You're a very good fighter," Lex remarked in a conversational tone. He cocked his head at Mercy. "Just so you're aware, my associate here can easily shoot your other kneecap off, along with a number of other, shall we say, points of articulation on your body." The man's eyes widened. "Keep quiet if you must, but if I give the word she will cripple you so badly you'll never fight again. You'll spend the rest of your days being wheeled around a nursing home, your limbs useless. And I will make sure you live a very, very long life. On the other hand," Lex continued thoughtfully, "if you talk now -- and I do mean immediately -- I'll make sure that knee of yours is fully repaired by Metropolis's finest doc--" 

"Morgan Edge!" the man ground out. "We work for Edge." His tone became somewhat desperate. "Wait around outside the house, we were told, see if he comes in, and if he does, take him down but don't kill him. That's all I know, man. Please..." 

"Thank you." Lex rose smoothly. "I have some business to take care of in the next room. As soon as I'm done, I give you my word that a med-evac helicopter will be called to collect you." He moved towards the door leading to the office. "Mercy, if you'd keep an eye on our guests. This shouldn't take long." 

"But Lex --" 

"I'll go with you, Luthor," Superman said. 

Lex was about to decline, when Mercy replied, "That sounds good. You keep an eye on the boss, and I'll make sure these gentlemen don't go anywhere." She cocked both guns and settled herself on a chair facing them. "Go ahead, Lex." 

"I don't need a babysitter," Lex pointed out, annoyed. 

"There may be more of them," Superman pointed out reasonably. 

"I don't trust you..." Lex began. 

"Lex," Mercy interrupted. Something in her tone made him stop. "I think it's all right." Lex stared. He could count on one hand -- one finger really -- the people he'd known Mercy to trust his personal safety to. Never, ever would he have thought she'd add Superman to that list. 

"Come on, Luthor," Superman said, walking past him into the office. 

"Better hurry," Mercy noted. "Your stoolie just passed out." 

Lex sighed. "Fine." He followed Superman into the office, pulling the door shut behind him. He worried briefly about having a witness to what he was about to do, but Superman was likely to listen in at this point whether he was in the room or outside the mansion. Besides, it wasn't as though Superman didn't already know all about Edge's shady dealings, or Lionel Luthor's. 

Lex quickly set up a secure connection with the hardware left in the office. He activated a voice connection and a fax machine -- no video. Lex didn't want to advertise where he was. He was confident that the layers of encryption around the connection he was using would take Edge's men weeks to sort out, if they even bothered. 

Once set up, he glanced up at Clark -- Superman -- briefly, then dialled. A female voice answered on the first ring. 

"Hello, Brink Enterprises." 

"Miranda, this is Lex Luthor. I need to speak with your superior." 

There was a pause. 

"I'm afraid he's not avail--" 

"He'll make himself available, trust me. Tell him I'll hold for twenty seconds." 

"Mr. Luthor, I--" 

"Eighteen seconds." 

Canned classical music piped through the receiver. Lex glanced up. Superman was watching him steadily from across the office. It was disconcerting, having Clark in this office again, after so many years. Abruptly, Lex came back to the present as Morgan Edge's dark voice came on the line. 

"Lex. I wasn't expecting to hear from you." 

"I'll bet. I won't waste your time or mine with idle talk, Edge," Lex said tersely. "Your little trick didn't work, but it did piss me off. I want you out of my city, and out of my country." 

Edge chuckled. 

"I hear Morocco is very nice this time of year," Lex went on. 

"Lex, Lex, Lex," Edge said with humour. "Why on earth would I want to leave the country? I have a very nice little business set up here. Very profitable. And I hear that they don't get good television reception in Morocco, and I must confess I don't know what I would do without 'The Sopranos.' No, I'm afraid I plan to stay right here in Metropolis for a long time." 

"Edge. I have some papers that might convince you otherwise." 

"Oh, how precious." Edge sounded genuinely amused. 

"I'm faxing them now," Lex said, feeding several papers into the machine. "If you'll be so good as to look them over, you'll notice that --" 

"Where did you get these?" Edge snarled, all humour gone. "How?" 

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Lex said tonelessly. "I have them, and many more like them. I have tapes, Edge, audio and video. I have papers and floppy discs and compact discs. They're scattered all around the globe, safe as houses," Lex told him. The lie didn't matter -- Lex would make sure it came to pass soon enough. "I've arranged it so that if my people don't hear from me every two days, everything gets sent to all the major media networks on earth. Pull another little trick like the other day, and there will be serious consequences." 

"You'd never reveal these," Edge growled. "The blow to your father's image..." 

"My father's image is none of my concern, Edge," Lex replied coolly, sensing his prey was stumbling. "I wouldn't hesitate to go public with this information, not if I thought you were being less than co-operative." 

"Fine, Lex," Edge said with a hint of panic. "I'll shut down Green-Eyed Monster and Spark Plug. Consider them gone." 

"I want _you_ gone, Edge," Lex said. "Entirely. You have two days to pull out of Metropolis, and two weeks to leave the United States. Permanently and completely. Including, but not limited to, Brink Enterprises and all subsidiaries of your legitimate businesses, the Metropolis Spartans and the Scorpions gangs, as well as the chapter of The Hell's Angels you control, the Spark Plug drug ring, the Green-Eyed Monster underground Kryptonite trade, the weapons dealing, the Fallen Angels prostitution ring...." 

"You little prick --" 

"...the Suicide Slums, and the Black Star assassins' league. Miss the deadlines, and I go to the media. If I find any trace of your existence or influence after you've left, I go to the media. You come within spitting distance of an American embassy or international airport, I --" 

"I _get_ it, Lex," Edge growled. "You've won, you arrogant bastard. How you ever escaped --" 

"Two days to leave Metropolis, Edge. Two weeks for the States. I suggest you start packing." Lex hung up. He gathered the documents again. He'd better get them distributed and secured quickly, and put that two-day standard in place. Now that Edge knew he had them, it was the safest thing to do. 

"Lex," Superman said softly. 

"We'd better get moving," Lex replied. "I've just got one more thing to do." He dialled Toby's number. Toby answered on the fifth ring. 

"Yeah?" 

"It's Lex. I need you to call the Smallville med-evac team to the mansion. Three patients for transport to Metropolis General, two with gunshot wounds to the knee, one with a concussion and possibly other fractures." 

"Lex, what the hell?" 

"Don't ask questions, just do it. The tallest one, with black hair -- he _has_ to make a complete recovery. Understand? Triple payment, Toby, you can pick it up at the usual place tomorrow." 

"Shit, Lex, what have you done this time?" 

"Just see to it." Lex hung up and severed the connection. He dismantled the hardware, picked up the files and strode back to the gallery. "Coming?" he asked Superman over his shoulder. 

Mercy glanced up at him. "Lex," she said. Her serious tone made Lex stop in his tracks. She held up the small communication device Lex had personally designed for Mercy and her team. "Message from Hope. Less than a minute ago, the LexCorp building was firebombed." 

Lex paled. "My God." 

He heard Superman curse behind him. "I'll be back," he said in a rush as he swooped past Lex and out the window. 

"Shit." Lex sank to the floor. "Dale and his team were working on the NanoFlex deal today. And the whole research department would have been working on the new cardio-dialysis system...." 

Mercy shook her head. "They only took out the top storeys. The penthouse is toast, but no one was in it. The upper offices are pretty much gone, but Hope said the senior execs were able to evacuate in time. Dale and the rest of R &D are untouched, since they're all below street level. Lex, Edge meant this to piss you off, but he won't do anything to make you seriously consider going public with whatever it is you've got on him." 

Lex rubbed his head. He wondered if there was any liquor left in the office, knew that there wasn't. "At least no one was hurt," he muttered. "I ought to fucking destroy that motherfucker." 

"Damage control, Lex," Mercy reminded him. "No one died, and you can rebuild easily enough. Don't let him trick you into making a mistake." 

Superman flew in through the hole in the window, landing in front of Lex. "No one was killed, Luthor," he said. 

"He knows," Mercy replied. "We need to get out of here..." 

As if on cue, Lex heard the thrum of the med-evac helicopter in the distance. 

"You can't go back to Metropolis," Superman was saying. "What if Edge has other booby traps set for you? Besides, the penthouse is destroyed." 

"We can't stay _here_ ," Mercy replied, gesturing toward the three unconscious men. 

"I need to get these files distributed," Lex said, looking up at them. The helicopter was almost there. 

"I'll take him," Superman said to Mercy. 

"Where?" asked Mercy. 

"Somewhere safe. You can trust me." 

"What?" shouted Lex. 

Mercy hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "He'll be safer away from Metropolis for now." 

"Excuse me, but don't I --" Lex began. 

"Give me those," Mercy said, holstering her gun and grabbing the files. "I'll make sure they get to the appropriate parties. The instructions are to go public after, what, forty-eight hours of silence? I'll get it all set up for you." She shoved her communication device into his empty hand before he could protest. "I'll take the pod back to Metropolis. I can disappear from the building once I'm there. Don't worry. I'll be in touch within eight hours." She took off at a trot for the hallway, heading for the wine cellar and the pod. 

The helicopter had landed outside the mansion. "Up you get, Lex," Superman said as he hauled Lex's limp form off the ground. "Hold on!" 

Lex couldn't help but comply as they flew back out the broken window. "Wait!" he shouted in Superman's ear. "Not back to that... that place. Please." Lex didn't feel up to dealing with alien artificial intelligences and strange spheroid rooms. He wanted, in fact, to go home to his penthouse. The thought of its destruction made him close his eyes. The one place that was really _his_ , and it was gone. 

"I'm not taking you there," Superman told him. "I'm taking you somewhere much closer." On those words, they touched down on the porch of a yellow farmhouse that Lex would have recognized anywhere. 

"Mom!" Superman yelled. "Mom!" 

"Clark!" came the familiar voice from inside the house. "What on earth...?" 

Superman set Lex down on the porch and stepped towards his mother who stood staring in her kitchen doorway. "Hi, mom. I brought Lex Luthor here because people are trying to kill him. Can we come in?" 

Most women would have panicked, or refused. At the very least, most women would have reacted with antagonism to someone like Lex Luthor. 

Martha Kent, as Lex well knew, was not most women. 

"Yes, of course, dear," she said, stepping aside and holding the door open. "Come in, hurry. Le -- Mr. Luthor, are you hurt? I'll put on some tea." 

"We're fine," replied Clark, steering Lex quickly into the kitchen. "Turn on the television." 

Martha set the kettle on the stovetop then went to the living room, calling over her shoulder, "What happened, Clark?" 

Clark pushed Lex, not ungently, into a chair at the table. "Just check the television." Lex watched in amazement as Superman streaked from the room, faster than his eye could follow, and Clark Kent streaked back a second later, big black glasses perched on his nose, wearing worn jeans and an old flannel top. Lex blinked. He was almost certainly in shock, part of his brain registered, and that hadn't helped. He had _known_ for years, of course. But to see it right before his eyes, to see Clark use his powers as _Clark_ and not as Superman.... 

From the living room, they heard a newscaster on the television. "...thirty-five p.m., the upper levels of the LexCorp building in downtown Metropolis were destroyed by what was apparently an implanted napalm weapon. Although no one was killed, more than a dozen LexCorp employees have been taken to hospital to be treated for injuries ranging from smoke inhalation to chemical burns. All are expected to make full recoveries. With Superman's help, authorities have just finished evacuating a three-block radius in the centre of Metropolis. We go now to the steps of _The_ _Daily_ _Planet_ , where a LexCorp representative is speaking live to reporters." 

"We intend to bring justice to whoever performed this act of terrorism," Lex could hear Charity say on the television. "LexCorp will co-operate fully with the authorities to bring the perpetrators to justice. We take public safety very seriously, and acts like this will not be tolerated. Although the people who did this managed to plant incendiary bombs on the upper levels of the LexCorp flagship building, the structural integrity of the building is such that there is no further danger to downtown Metropolis. We have also, in co-operation with the local police, completed a sweep of the building to determine that no other devices have been planted. A more complete report will be issued once we know more about who did this." 

"That was Charity Valour, LexCorp representative," the first voice said. "We will keep reporting on any further developments --" 

Martha shut off the television and returned to the kitchen as the kettle began to whistle fiercely. As she made a pot of chamomile tea, she remarked, "I'm glad no one was hurt, Mr. Luthor, but why would someone do this?" 

Lex flinched, both at Martha Kent calling him by his last name and at her implication that he had done something to provoke this. 

It was Clark who replied, "Mom, Lex didn't do anything wrong." 

Martha's eyebrows shot into her hairline at Clark's use of Lex's first name. Lex was fairly shocked himself. They had more than a decade of hatred and enmity under their belts -- what on earth had gotten into Clark? 

"Clark," Martha said slowly, "would you care to explain what's going on?" 

Clark glanced at Lex. Okay, Luthor, he thought to himself, time to pull yourself together. "Mrs. Kent," he began, looking at her steadily. "Two days ago I was ambushed while negotiating a deal with Morgan Edge. He was going to shut down the massive drug trade under his control and the underground sales of Kryptonite he oversees, in return for certain compensations from me." 

Martha looked sceptical. Lex plowed on. "He betrayed me. Superman rescued me." Lex glanced over to Clark. Lex wondered if he looked as nervous as Clark looked. The ire of Martha Kent had that effect on men. "Before Edge found out I'd survived, I took steps to neutralize him permanently." 

"You were going to kill him," Martha accused. 

"No," Lex said, raising his voice. "I'm not a murderer, Mrs. Kent," he said more softly, imploringly. "I blackmailed him. I had certain documents stored at the mansion that could destroy him. I contacted him with these documents, and negotiated his complete withdrawal from Metropolis, and from the United States." Lex dropped his eyes. "I'm afraid I didn't anticipate Edge's little retaliation, which you saw on the television just now. I expect that's the last we'll hear from him -- as my associate pointed out to me, Edge wouldn't risk antagonizing me so much that I'd go public with the information I have. That information is much more useful as a bargaining tool if it stays secret for now." Lex sighed. "I'm relieved that no one was killed, and I think no one else will be, now." He was more tired than he could remember being in a long time. He just wanted it to end. 

"Well," Martha said. She poured three cups of tea for them, and sat with Lex at the table. "Here. Drink this." Lex accepted the mug and cradled its warmth in his hands. "What will you do now?" Martha was asking. 

"I wait for my associate to contact me, as soon as she thinks it's safe for me to return to Metropolis. That should be before morning," he added, "and I can certainly wait out the night elsewhere if you're concerned --" 

"I'm not concerned, Lex," Martha said quietly. "You're welcome to stay here overnight, or as long you need." She seemed to consider her next words for a moment. "I think... I think you did good, Lex. You certainly did everything you could. I think it's been a long time since any of us noticed that." 

Lex stared into his tea. Control, Luthor, he thought to himself, keep it under control. When he spoke, his voice was calm. "Mrs. Kent, your opinions of me have been entirely valid, I can assure you." 

"Call me Martha." 

Lex bit the inside of his cheek before going on. "I'm not a good man. There is blood on my hands." 

"From keeping the worst crime in Metropolis in check," Clark said. 

Lex looked at him sharply. "It's good for my business the keep the city clean," he told him. 

"Not _that_ good," Clark rejoined. "No way were you making a profit on shutting down Edge's drug ring, or his Kryptonite trade." 

Lex sipped his tea rather than answer. 

"Lex," said Martha, "you're staying here tonight. You can have Clark's room. Clark, I'd like you to stay here too while things are so dangerous -- you can sleep on the couch." Martha's tone brooked no argument. "Now you boys take your tea into the living room while I get supper ready." 

The evening passed quietly. Clark and Lex didn't talk, except for a brief argument about what to put on the television while they waited for supper (Lex wanted to follow the evening news stories; Clark overruled him on this, and they watched "Pet Rescue" instead). Conversation at the dinner table was subdued, and mainly about the farm and how Martha managed the acreage she'd retained after Jonathan's death three years ago. 

The communication device in Lex's pocket buzzed as they were finishing the cold apple pie Martha served for dessert. He excused himself and went to the living room to flick it on. 

"Yes?" he said into the device. 

"Lex." Mercy's voice was tinny, but crystal clear. "I have the situation under control. The files have been distributed to 11 separate caretakers." 

"Who?" 

"Your usual crowd, except for Friedrich and Cho-Ming. Friedrich's research is keeping his communication at the Antarctic base spotty, so you wouldn't be able to check in regularly; and the political situation in Hong Kong..." 

"Right. Good call." 

"I've given them instructions to hold the files until you're back on the scene, at which time you'll negotiate regular communication. They also know to go public if you or I give them the go-ahead, or if it becomes apparent that you've been put upon by Edge's people." 

"Excellent. I should be able to return to supervise the PR spin tomorrow, if you'll meet me in the mansion's docking port..." 

"No, Lex. No way. Not until Edge is out of Metropolis." 

"I can't just --" 

"It's too dangerous. Two days in deep cover won't kill you. And it won't kill LexCorp. You know the fail-safe systems you have in place will run for at least that long without your direct input." 

"I can't stay here. I --" 

"Stay out of Metropolis, Lex. Edge is running scared. He'll be gone in forty-eight hours for sure, but until then he's going to try to make your life difficult. Just stay out of it." 

Lex felt the muscle in his jaw popping out from clenching. "Fine," he muttered. "Forty-eight hours. As soon as Edge is out of there, I'm coming back." 

"I'll send a suitcase for you right away. Theo will deliver it tonight. I know you're still nearby -- your voice is too clear for you to be that far off. I'll trace your location from the comm unit. Charity will take care of the company until you get back, Lex. And Fox and her team will make sure Edge gets out fast. I'll check back in twenty-four hours. Don't worry about a thing." Mercy severed the connection. 

Lex flicked off the device, muttering darkly to himself. He could camp out in the mansion for two days, or find a cheap motel nearby. Just two days. Then Edge would be gone from Metropolis, and Lex could return. 

He walked back into the kitchen. 

"Well?" Martha asked, at the same time as Clark blurted, "Mercy's right!" 

Lex glared at Clark. "You listened in on my private conversation?" 

Clark glared back, Superman-like. "She's still right. You need to stay out of Metropolis until Edge is gone." 

"Clark, it's rude to listen to others' conversations," Martha chided Clark, then turned to Lex. "But I think I have to agree. You'll stay here for a couple of days." 

"Mrs. K -- Martha," Lex corrected at her frown, "I couldn't in good conscience expose you to danger, which I would almost inevitably --" 

"No one knows you're here, do they?" Clark interjected. "And I can be here a lot of the time to keep an eye on things." 

"Then it's settled," Martha said standing up to clear the last of the dishes. 

"No!" Lex's shout startled them all. He went on, his voice deadly calm. "You can't possibly be serious. I am Lex Luthor, Superman's greatest enemy. You've made it perfectly clear that the things I've done are completely in opposition to everything Superman holds dear. 'Truth, justice, and the American Way.' I have been false, unjust, and un-American, and you've never stopped reminding me of that." 

"But..." 

"And let's not forget, regardless of Superman, that Clark Kent has hated me for even longer than Superman has existed. I just wouldn't let your secret alone, I was _obsessed_ with you. And you made it clear that was unacceptable. What makes you think that's changed?" 

"Listen..." 

"Let me finish, please, Mrs. Kent. What do you think your husband would have thought of all this? Everyone knows that he died largely as a result of repeated LuthorCorp pesticide testing accidents around Smallville. What would he think of this little gathering? Of your offer of sanctuary to the devil himself!" 

Martha finally walked up to him and laid two fingers on his mouth, effectively silencing him. 

"Now _you_ listen to _me_ for a moment, Lex. Jonathan hated your father, yes, but I think you did as well, to a certain extent. I know that you fought him every step of the way to prevent that testing, and after Lionel died you had LexCorp clean up your father's messes. And as for everything else... well, it occurs to me that you're not as evil as we've all been assuming. You've been helping Metropolis in ways Superman can't -- dealing with crime from the inside, preventing and reducing it rather than flying in and fixing things after the fact. I always had my suspicions, you know. I know the work Clark does, and I know Metropolis pretty well. I always thought Clark must have had a silent partner working somewhere behind the scenes." 

Clark moved to stand behind Martha, facing Lex. "You're trying to help Metropolis, same as I am. And... I don't want you to get hurt right now." 

"Live to fight another day, huh?" Lex murmured. 

"Exactly," Martha said firmly, patting his shoulder. "We'll talk about this more tomorrow. I'm going to finish these dishes, and no, Lex, you can't help me! You two just stay out of my way. Go watch the sunset from the barn. I'd better not see you back here for at least an hour." 

Clark grinned and pecked Martha on the cheek. "You're the boss, mom. C'mon," he said to Lex, heading out the door. 

Lex shook his head. This was unreal. All those years of antagonism, and suddenly, it was just like that first year after he met Clark. The friendship of destiny. He wondered how long it would be before it all came crashing down again. 

The view from the barn was admittedly spectacular. The whole Kansas sky, unobscured by buildings, glowed with shifting colours. Lex still remembered it from that first year he'd known Clark. The telescope was still there, between them as they stared into the sky. 

They stood in silence until the sun began to dip below the horizon, and dark blue edged out the other colours in the sky. Clark lit several propane lanterns and sank down onto a dusty couch. Lex gingerly sat on a wooden chair facing the couch. He was unaccountably nervous. 

"Shouldn't you be out patrolling or saving the world or something?" he asked, a little sharply, to cover his nerves. 

Clark smiled. "Well, you're _here_ ," Clark said, "so I can assume I don't need to save the world from _you_." Lex narrowed his eyes. "I'm kidding. Calm down. At any rate, I work in tandem with the Justice League. I told them I was taking a personal day." 

Lex's eyes widened. "Are you serious?" 

Clark shrugged. "More or less. If anything serious happens that they can't handle on their own, they'll contact me, and I'll have to go out. But things will probably stay quiet in this hemisphere for now, so I can stay here. We need to talk." With that last, Clark's voice turned serious and he leaned forward on the couch. 

"Talk?" 

"Yes. I've been thinking." 

"Have you." 

"Yes, Lex. I've been thinking that I haven't exactly been... fair to you." 

Lex absorbed this admission. "Okay," he said slowly. 

"Not that you've been perfect yourself." 

"Certainly not." 

"But I know I treated you badly when we both lived here. I was so freaked out every time I found out you were trying to figure out my secret..." 

"You had every right to be." 

"Well, maybe. But I _was_ lying to you." 

"Badly, too." 

Clark glared at Lex. "Thanks. My point is, I can see why you were obsessed with finding out my secret. Afterward, when I moved to Metropolis and started being Superman, I always assumed the worst of you." 

"I certainly wouldn't discourage you from doing that -- you'd be right more often." 

"No I wouldn't. Look at your meeting with Edge. Before, I would have assumed that you were making a deal so you would profit from Edge's drugs and illegal Kryptonite. Now, I know better." 

"I'm glad to have been the catalyst for your education." 

"And I was always pestering you. I mean, Superman was always examining your affairs minutely -- much more so that Edge's, or anyone else's, really. I figured -- I don't know why now, but I figured I had a right to delve into all your secrets, but you had no right to inquire into mine. I was wrong. I'm sorry." 

"Hmmm." 

"Lex, I'm making a fairly major apology here and all you can do is hum?" 

Lex looked at him steadily. "You're using my first name." 

"Yeah, I am. I want..." Clark sighed. "I don't think I can be friends with you. Not openly. Or at least, not as Superman. You're still too..." Clark searched for a word. 

"Disreputable?" Lex chuckled. "I wouldn't expect Superman to get his hands dirty. Don't worry... Clark. Really. People need a pure hero. They need Superman." 

"It's just frustrating that I'm this... this _symbol_ , and you're doing real good for Metropolis, but everyone assumes you're some nefarious villain! And it's mostly my fault! I... what?" 

Lex was laughing at him. "I'm a 'nefarious villain', am I? I don't recall tying any maidens to railway tracks lately, so I'll have to take your word on this." 

"Lex..." Clark growled, standing and looming over him. 

"I'm also missing the requisite moustache to twirl. But then, Dr. Evil had that pinkie thing." Lex demonstrated. 

"Seriously, Lex..." Clark advanced on him. 

"That's 'Lex Luthor, Nefarious Villain' to you." 

Clark leaned over Lex, planting a hand on each side of Lex's shoulders. Lex's breath caught. Through those ridiculous glasses, Clark's eyes were still bottle-green and dancing. They remained like that a moment, stock-still, eyes locked. Lex could feel Clark's breath on his lips, they were so close. 

Clark broke the moment by leaning back again and walking down the stairs. "Let's head back, Mr. Nefarious," he called over his shoulder. "Chores start at sunrise tomorrow, and you have to earn your keep somehow, since we're fresh out of innocent maidens for you to tie up." 

"Be down in a sec," Lex replied. He clenched his jaw so hard it creaked, and dug his fingers into his thighs. Willing away the treacherous erection that had sprung up with Clark's proximity, he stood gingerly and followed Clark, from a distance, to the house. 

Theo had come and gone, leaving a brown cardboard box marked "Bake Sale Records" with Martha. When Lex opened it he found several changes of clothing, his passport, and a sensible amount of cash. Everything required by the fugitive billionaire on the go. Feeling drained after his conversation with Clark, Lex excused himself almost immediately for bed. 

That night, sleeping in Clark's old bed, Lex dreamt of being lost in an infinite field of corn as the sky fell around him, and of Clark, crucified for Lex's sins, staring at him no matter where he ran. It was somehow arousing and terrifying at once. 

Lex awoke with a gasp, covered in sweat. He sat up, taking deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heart and willing his body to relax. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door cracked open. 

"Lex?" came the whispered inquiry. 

"Clark," Lex responded, relaxing somewhat. 

"Are you okay? I heard... noises." 

"Noises?" 

"In here." 

"I was dreaming. Sorry to have woken you." 

"You sounded scared." 

Lex smiled. "I'm fine, Clark. You can go back to sleep now." 

Clark didn't leave. In fact, he came across the room to the bed and sat next to Lex. It was not a large bed, and Clark's boxer-clad thigh brushed Lex's hand where it lay on the cover. 

This was a very, very bad thing, because Lex was still hard from the dream, from Clark's eyes on him, and here was Clark in the same bed as Lex wearing nothing but boxers and an old t-shirt. Lex closed his eyes, moved his hand away, and was very still. 

"I couldn't sleep," said Clark. 

"Oh," said Lex, not opening his eyes. 

"Are you all right?" Clark asked. 

Please let him not use X-ray vision, thought Lex. He said, "I'm fine. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable in here. Why don't I take the couch --" 

"No, Lex, you need to stay up here. It's safer. You want to tell me about it?" 

"About what?" Deep breaths, Lex thought to himself. Deep breaths. Be the master of your domain. 

"Your dream. The one that scared you." 

"Not really, Clark." 

"Okay." Clark paused. "Lex, are you sure you're all right? Your eyes are closed, and you look so tense." Clark touched Lex's shoulder, and Lex's eyes shot open. It was like an electric current. "Whoa, sorry Lex. Didn't mean to startle you." But Clark didn't remove his hand. In fact, Clark's hand started kneading Lex's shoulder, inching up close to his neck, one thumb brushing the hot skin exposed there. "Your shoulders are all hunched up," Clark murmured. 

Lex's mind raced. He could be calm addressing a board room; he could be calm dealing with the world's most notorious thieves and murderers; he could be calm speaking in front of thousands or millions; but he could never, ever be calm in a sexual situation, and it looked very much like this was turning into a _sexual_ _situation_. 

When Clark leaned close to Lex's ear, so close he could feel Clark's breath on his ear, and murmured, "Just let me take care of you," Lex jerked away. 

"No!" he said, too loudly. "I mean, no thank you, Clark, I'm fine. I just need to go back to sleep. Please." 

Clark stood abruptly. "Fine," he said, sounding hurt and a little angry. "I'm sorry I tried to help. I just thought... I mean, if we were starting over or whatever... never mind. Good night." He left, closing the door softly behind him. 

Lex sighed. He was still tense all over, and still hard. What the hell was Clark trying to pull? They hadn't been physically close since very early in their friendship, and even then it was usually Lex who subtly occupied Clark's personal space whenever he could. 

He lay down on the lumpy mattress, staring at the ceiling. It had been so juvenile, his infatuation. He'd been so drawn to Clark, but so terrified that he could only insinuate, never act. Never ask. 

There was no reason to try to open himself to that now. Clark had never really responded when they _had_ been friends. There was no reason to try for anything more than a truce in their enmity now. A man could only go down that path too many times; he couldn't let himself pursue it again. 

Eventually, Lex drifted off to sleep. If he had dreams, he did not remember them. 

At breakfast, Clark acted as though nothing untoward had occurred last night. He and Martha chatted about Clark's work at the newspaper, while Lex pored over the _The_ _Daily_ _Planet_ 's coverage of the LexCorp bombing. 

After breakfast, Clark zipped off to Metropolis for the day, promising to return by early evening. "Don't forget, I'll be listening all day, I'll be able to hear you if you call for me," he reminded Martha and Lex before he disappeared with a _whoosh_. 

That morning, Lex helped Martha in the garden behind the house. They were hidden from the road, and Lex was almost unrecognizable anyway in a pair of Jonathan's old coveralls, with a blue bandana on his head. Lex hated having his head covered, but Martha had insisted his head would burn under the hot sun, finding him a worn old bandana soft enough not to irritate his scalp. 

They weeded the entire yard, and laid down more mulch between the rows of vegetables. Then Martha cut some flowers for the kitchen and announced it was time for a lemonade break, and some lunch. 

Martha poured lemonade and fixed two sandwiches while Lex arranged the flowers in a vase. Lex was grateful to sit at the kitchen table for a few minutes, tearing off the bandana and helping himself to lemonade and a tuna on rye. It was amazing what real, physical work did for one's constitution. 

"Did you sleep well, Lex?" Martha asked. 

Lex stiffened. "Yes, Mrs. K-- Martha. Thank you." 

"I thought I heard voices..." 

"I had a bad dream. Clark heard me, and came to make sure I was all right." 

"Oh." 

They sipped their lemonade silently. 

"You know, I always thought Clark missed you." 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"These last ten years, you've been fighting each other in every way. I know now that you've been doing good work, Lex. It can't be easy, trying to work within all the badness in Metropolis. I have some idea of the kinds of things that go on there. You're a good man." 

Lex didn't try to argue. "What are you saying, Martha?" 

"That Clark is stubborn. He gets is from his father, and from me, I suppose. But he's a good man too." 

"You hardly need to tell _me_ that." 

"Maybe not. But I think you can be good for each other." 

Lex stared, dumbfounded. 

"After all," Martha went on, "you were such good friends when you first met. I don't think Clark knew just how good a friend you were to him. I think Clark didn't understand a lot about the relationship you tried to have with him." 

Lex felt the blood leave his face. "I think Clark understood better than I did the limitations of our relationship to each other." 

Martha smiled at him. "Calm down, please, Lex. All I'm saying is, relationships don't come easy for Clark. He tries so hard to be a symbol that sometimes I think he forgets about the real person underneath. Something tells me you can relate." 

Lex avoided her gaze. 

"But you've been more successful in your relationships, Lex." 

Here Lex made a derisive noise, too startled to be polite. "I'm afraid you're labouring under a delusion. I have never had a successful relationship in my life." 

"I know it hasn't always worked out for you, but at least you've tried. I'm afraid Clark is much less... experienced. He's never even brought a special someone home for dinner." 

"Martha..." 

"Just go slowly with him, please." 

That did it. This was too much. Lex stood, fastening the bandana, and moved toward the door. He was stopped by Martha's hand on his arm. 

"I'm sorry, Lex. I didn't mean... It's just that Clark always seems so lonely, and you're the only person he's ever really connected to, even now. I just want him -- I want _both_ of you to be happy." 

Lex looked her in the eye. "I want him to be happy too, Martha." 

She nodded, as though that settled something. "I need to do some baking today. Would you mind pruning the rose bushes behind the yard?" 

"Of course." 

"You're a good boy," Martha said, suddenly pulling him into a hug. Wondering at his sudden demotion from "man" to "boy," he awkwardly returned the hug, eyes stinging. Releasing him, she added, "Come in once you're done, we can relax together. Do you watch _Coronation_ _Street_?" 

"I can start." 

"Good." 

Lex passed a very pleasant hour pruning the roses (a task he used to share with his own mother). When he was done, he watched soap operas with Martha and her friend Julia, who had come over to pick up several dozen cookies for the town's blood donor clinic. Lex was amused that Julia had no idea who he was, but was able to fill Lex in on every character, plot, and subplot known to _Coronation_ _Street_. After Julia left, Lex managed to talk Martha into letting him help prepare supper. Clark blew into the farmhouse as Lex was pulling the roasted potatoes out of the oven. 

While they ate, Clark updated them on the LexCorp building (fully stabilized; downtown residents had returned that morning), his request for the next day off from _The_ _Planet_ (grudgingly granted), and the state of the world in general (a bus went off a cliff in British Columbia; aside from that, the JL were managing fine without Superman). 

Martha shooed them out to the barn again after dinner. She stoutly refused Lex's offer to help clean up. "No, Lex, you worked all day. You need to relax a bit. Both of you," she said, eyeing Lex significantly. He chose to ignore her meaning. As if he could relax while thinking about.... 

Once again the sunset was magnificent. Lex and Clark watched it in a silence that was not entirely comfortable. This time, Lex was the first to move away. Without lanterns, and with the moon still low in the sky, it was quite dark. Lex managed to find the couch by feel, and sat. 

He turned to see Clark's large frame outlined against the dark blue patch of sky. Lex knew he had to talk to Clark about... whatever this was between them. If _Martha_ was picking up on it, it was time to chat. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he supposed it was going to happen sooner or later. 

"Clark," he began. "I have to tell you something." 

Before Lex got any further, Clark came over the couch, sat so close to Lex he was almost on top of him, grabbed Lex's face and pulled him into a wild kiss. 

Lex was too shocked to move, let alone respond. His lack of reaction didn't seem to faze Clark, who wrapped his arms around Lex's neck and pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss. When Lex felt Clark's tongue probe into his mouth, his body relaxed, almost against his will, and he arched into Clark's embrace. 

When the kiss ended, they stared wide-eyed at each other. Clark broke the silence. "I've been thinking about doing that all day," he breathed. 

Lex swallowed with difficulty. "Clark. You can't be serious." 

"You think this is a joke?" 

"Not exactly. I think you're confused." 

Clark pulled back, still close, but far enough to talk properly. "Confused. I'm twenty-eight years old, Lex. I promise you, I'm not confused about what I want." He paused, then went on, haltingly, "Maybe you're not sure about what _you_ want." 

Lex sighed, and pulled completely away from Clark's arms. He scooted a little further away on the couch. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw Clark frown in displeasure. Lex needed the distance, though. This wasn't going to be pleasant, for either of them. 

"I need you to listen to me, Clark," Lex said. "This can never work. I'm not a person you could make this work with." 

"So it's not me, it's you?" Clark demanded, hurt. 

"Yes, but please let me explain why." Lex hesitated. "I'm going to tell you something I have never told anyone else, ever. Needless to say, you must never repeat it." 

"Fine, Lex, we're off the fucking record. Now will you please tell me why I can't kiss you? I know you want it too." 

Lex blushed hotly. "Clark..." 

"I know you wanted it back then. I get that now. And I think you still want it. So why not?" 

"Because," Lex said carefully, "I have never made love in my life." 

Dead silence from Clark. 

"I'm a virgin," Lex clarified helpfully. 

Another beat of silence. "You mean, you've never been with a guy?" Clark asked hesitantly. 

"I wish it was that simple. I've never had sexual intercourse with anyone." 

"I... I don't believe it." 

"Neither do I, really, but it's true." 

"But you were married! Fuck, Lex, what about all those women in clubs? All the rich girls I've seen you with in the gossip column?" Now Clark was angry. "You're lying!" he nearly shouted. 

"I wish I was," Lex said calmly. 

"How on earth is that even possible?" Clark was incredulous. "I mean, you're older than I am!" 

"By 6 years, Clark," Lex reminded him. 

"Yeah, but, jeez, Lex. I mean, by the time I was 17, I... I mean... Fuck. How is that possible?" he repeated. 

"I've just always been this way." 

"Yeah, Lex, _everyone_ is a virgin to start. It's not usually a permanent condition." Something seemed to occur to Clark then. "Lex -- it's not because of... because of what happened the day of the meteor shower?" 

"No, Clark, it's not because of the day you came to earth." 

Clark started at that, but didn't respond. 

"At Excelsior, I knew I was different," Lex told him. "In an environment like that, boys sense difference the way sharks sense blood, and their reaction is pretty much the same. One could 'experiment' while at school, but being labelled a faggot would make your life a living hell. So I started making up stories. It began with the usual mysterious girlfriend who lived abroad, or pretending I'd gotten father with a date than I actually did. Then I started paying girls to allow the Excelsior boys to think I'd ... gone all the way with them. 

"I had no sexual interest in women at all, but I had to maintain my reputation as a playboy. It was easy enough to do -- the right girls will do anything for a little compensation. I used to give them diamond earrings in exchange for letting everyone think I'd had sex with them. 

"Besides, soon enough, my reputation started to precede me. These days, everyone just assumes I sleep around with every pretty rich woman who falls across my path. I don't have to do a thing." 

Lex fell silent. After a moment, Clark asked, "But your marriages...?" 

"None of them were consummated," Lex replied. "I told all of them that I wanted to wait, to make it special. They thought it was so sweet -- Lex Luthor, playboy, wanting to wait. And you know that all of my marriages ended before any of them had a chance to wonder why we still weren't having sex." 

They fell into a silence that lasted many minutes. 

"Holy cow, Lex," Clark said eventually. "No wonder you always seemed so bitter and angry." 

"Thanks, Clark," Lex said sarcastically. 

"I mean, I get antsy when I haven't gotten some for a couple of months, but you've gone for _years_...." 

"All _right_ Clark!" Lex said firmly. "I was going to be messed up no matter what. Not having sex is a symptom, not a cause." 

"Whatever. So. A virgin." 

"Afraid so." 

"But you _are_ gay." 

"It's a moot point, since I've never had sex with _anyone_." 

"But if you were going to have sex with someone, it'd be a guy, right?" 

"Hypothetically, yes. I suppose it would." 

"Okay." Clark paused. "May I kiss you, Lex?" 

Lex stood. "No, Clark. I'm too... damaged. I won't drag you into my issues." 

"Dammit, Lex, I want you so much! Why don't you want me?" 

Lex looked at Clark sadly. "I do, Clark. I always have. Even when you hated me. But I can't. I'm sorry. Good night." Lex walked slowly down the stairs and back to the house, marvelling at the sheer amount of willpower it took to not turn back. 

That night, Mercy called on the communication device. "The whole thing's practically shut down," she informed Lex. "Fox's team has been keeping them on their toes. The merchandise is all accounted for, and Edge's people are more than half gone already. Edge himself seems to be holding out, but we expect him to be gone by noon tomorrow. We've been keeping tabs on this, Lex, and except for the firebombing, it's going as smoothly as we could have hoped." 

"Excellent. Naturally, I'm eager to return..." 

"Tomorrow afternoon, maybe early evening if Edge dawdles. No earlier, Lex." 

"But --" 

"I mean it. Stay put until tomorrow afternoon. I'll pick you up in the pod as soon as it's safe for you to return." 

Lex huffed. 

"I heard that," Mercy said, amusement registering even through the device's minute speaker. "It'll all be over before you know it. Keep enjoying that country air, and I'll see you tomorrow p.m." With that she cut the line. Lex sighed. It was going to be the longest morning and afternoon of his life. 

Lex slept fitfully that night. He tossed and turned for hours, his dreams fragmented and restless. He dreamed Clark was hovering above him, but when he reached out his hand hit only air. In the morning he woke, like the night before, hard and yearning from the look in Clark's eyes. 

At breakfast the next morning, Clark was gone. "Called away to a massive explosion in Dublin," Martha told him as she heaped pancakes on his plate. "The League seemed to think it was important he show up. He might be gone for a while." 

Lex was tense and anxious, torn between disappointment, anger, sadness, and relief. He and Martha spent the morning tending the pumpkins and zucchini, then baking a blueberry pie for Lex to take back to Metropolis with him. As Lex packed to leave, she also plied him with several jars of fruit preserves, a frozen pot pie, and a jar of homemade chicken noodle soup. "You're too skinny," Martha said. "And too pale. I wish I could keep you here for a month, just to make sure you get properly fed." 

Around 4:30, Mercy called Lex to let him know she'd be in the mansion in thirty-five minutes. Martha insisted on driving Lex to the mansion, where she hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Lex tried not to think of all the times he'd watched Clark receive this kind of attention from his family, the way a bitter little spark of envy would flare in his heart. Martha's arms were surprisingly strong, and she smelled like blueberries. 

"Take care of yourself. Promise you'll come back and visit," she told him. 

"I'll certainly try, Martha. I can't thank you enough for taking me in these past two days." 

"It was my pleasure, Lex," she said firmly. 

"Will Clark be..?" 

"He'll be fine. He and the League will probably be busy pulling survivors out of the wreckage for another little while. After a big job like that, he usually likes to spend some time over the ocean with the whales, or up at the North Pole. Sometimes, when it's really bad, he goes to the moon." 

Lex's eyes almost popped out of his head. Martha smiled. 

"I know. I can't believe it either, but he can survive the vacuum and the cold, and I can't stop him, so I just let him go when he needs to. And sometimes he really, really needs to be away for a bit." 

"I see," said Lex. "Will you pass on my thanks to him as well?" 

"I'm sure he'll stop by to see you in Metropolis, now that --" 

"I'm not sure he will, Martha," Lex interrupted quickly. "We're both so busy. And I'm still Lex Luthor. Two days of uncharacteristic bonding won't change that." 

"I never thought it would, Lex." Martha smiled at him, and her smile was both warm and sad. 

Lex cleared his throat. "I'd better go. Mercy will be almost here." 

"All right. I meant it when I said to come visit. May I call you to invite you to dinner sometime?" 

"I'd like that." Lex leaned across kissed her cheek one more time. "Thank you again." He got out of the truck and made his way down to the wine cellar. 

Mercy was waiting for him by the dock. As they whizzed back to Metropolis, Mercy filled him in on the Edge situation. 

"He's gone," she announced gleefully. "Fox herself chased him into the airplane. Anyone loyal to him has either left town or gone into hiding. Not that they can hide for long. Not from Fox. Hope and Charity have been working 'round the clock on damage control and containment. There are a lot of people in your shelters right now; we've had to double up at 'Outside Inn' and open up two new shelters for the kids alone." 

"And the merchandise?" 

"The drugs are being destroyed. It's all street crap, nothing we can use. The Kryptonite stuff is being held at warehouse 54. We'll have Louis and Irene go over it. A lot of it's salvageable. Anything they recover, we ship to R &D." 

"Excellent. And the penthouse?" 

"Will be completely rebuilt. We're waiting on you to finalize the plans -- they've sketched out the exact same floorplan, with a different facade so the public sees the rejuvenated face of the building. PR is spinning away, as usual, and stock prices took a dip, but quickly recovered and have held steady. Once you make your return, we expect them to climb at least a few points." 

Lex nodded. It was better than he'd expected. Things had been looking bleak, just before he'd made the deal with Edge. He didn't like negotiating with criminals, but it seemed to be the only way to shut down two very evil organizations. When Edge had betrayed him, Lex had been ready to die. He just couldn't win, it seemed, no matter what he did. 

Then Clark had swept in, saved his life and everything had turned around. 

Of course, the last time that had happened, it hadn't taken long for everything to start collapsing again. Lex wondered abstractly how long he'd be given this time. Ten years? Five? How much time could Lex hold out, be strong, without Clark in his life? 

Lex shook himself, and vowed to stop brooding on it. He had work to do. With whatever time he had before his descent into malice, he would do what he could. 

* * *

Three months went by. Lex worked so hard he didn't have time to wonder why things were going so well. The penthouse was rebuilt in record time. Lex hired Lacey McBain, Metropolis's premiere party planner, to plan the grand re-opening. Inexplicably, she chose an outer space theme, but it was a huge success. The gala raised enough money to keep the shelters running, and fund programs to rehabilitate the unfortunates who had been under Edge's heel. Lex felt a kind of dark pride in that -- it felt like giving the final blow to Edge's reign in Metropolis. 

Edge himself was in bad shape. The FBI and Interpol acquired sufficient evidence of his involvement in the LexCorp bombing to put out a warrant for Edge's arrest. The warrant had complicated Edge's attempt to disappear. He had been detained in a small country in West Africa. Lex's agents reported that he was wallowing in a tiny, dirty cell, and in shockingly ill health. Lex and Mercy split a bottle of Edge's favourite Scotch to celebrate. 

Superman continued to patrol Metropolis, though he no longer focused on Lex's comings and goings. When asked about this by Lois Lane in _The_ _Daily_ _Planet_ , Superman said, "Lex Luthor is one man. One man has the power to do a lot of good, or a lot of evil. But sometimes, it's not that simple. Sometimes, a man can do good in an evil place, and it seems like evil. But it's not. I know that now." Ms. Lane pressed for elaboration, but Superman would say no more about Lex Luthor. 

As for Clark Kent, he dropped out of Lex's life as thoroughly as he had over ten years ago. 

Probably for the best, thought Lex, late one day as he stood on his balcony looking over the city. Lex knew that people could change. He turned and looked at the ornamental shrubs on the balcony, the ones that had replaced the carved Kryptonite statues he'd kept there before. Lex didn't know why he'd made the change -- he didn't expect Superman to just drop by. But he sensed that their relationship had changed, or perhaps had become what it was always supposed to be. And that relationship didn't need Kryptonite statues on Lex's balcony, and it didn't need Superman or Clark Kent taking on a vendetta against Lex. 

Lex could live with that. Could live with the truce. He didn't want to try for anything more. 

If he was honest with himself, he had to acknowledge that he was _afraid_ to try for anything more. Last time he'd tried for more, when they were young... it had ended so badly. It had hurt so much, the thousand little rejections every day. Clark hadn't even realized he'd been rejecting Lex -- hadn't known Lex had been offering himself. But it had still hurt. And that hurt had twisted him into the kind of man who put Kryptonite statues on his balcony, and collected particle accelerators just to piss Superman off. 

Better to let sleeping dogs lie. 

At least Clark seemed to be happy. In the past three months, when he had time, Lex had surreptitiously observed the social life of one Clark Kent. Despite playing the "mild-mannered" card a bit too often, Clark never wanted for admirers. Of both sexes. Hope was amused as hell at her latest assignment, and cheerfully reported back on Clark's escapades in Metropolis's gay bars and nightclubs. With many significant looks, she repeatedly emphasized that, while Clark appeared to be throwing himself into the scene with abandon, he never actually took anyone home, or stayed the night with anyone else. Lex repeatedly replied that he wasn't about to take romantic advice, insinuated or otherwise, from someone insane enough to date Mercy. Hope just snickered. It was really appallingly unprofessional. 

Lex himself had fallen back on old habits. He appeared at events with women who were some combination of beautiful, rich, and famous. He danced and mingled, and flirted with the kind of precision years of practice had fostered. He allowed the press to photograph him for the society pages, and went home alone every night without so much as a good night kiss. The women knew their role, and Lex knew his. It was a good system. 

Or, at least, it was a working system. Lex sneered into the growing dark, walking slowly back inside. He knew being a 34-year-old deeply closeted virgin was unusual, and probably unhealthy. But contemplating a sexual relationship brought the same vertigo and nausea as contemplating a jump off a cliff. Lex calculated that the stress of starting one would be much greater than the pleasure he would get from it. It was just that simple -- the risks outweighed the benefits. He sighed, and wondered when his life had been reduced to a series of equations. 

As he was pulling the door shut behind him, he heard a _whoosh_ followed by the soft thud of feet landing on the tiled floor of the balcony. "Luthor!" he heard in Superman's authoritative voice. Lex cringed. He'd heard that often enough prior to three months ago. What the fuck was it _now_? 

He turned around in the doorway, opening his mouth to spit out a retort, but was interrupted. "I mean, _Lex_." Clark, in civilian clothes minus the glasses, looked thoroughly abashed. "Damnit, bad habits die heard, you know?" 

"I don't have any bad habits," Lex retorted. He hated being caught off-guard. "What on earth are you doing here?" 

"I just wanted to talk." 

"You flew onto my balcony, on the 129th floor, to talk? I could have been with someone! Someone might still see you! What if security wonders why someone they didn't buzz up is suddenly here with me?" 

"I knew you were alone," Clark replied. "And... I just wanted to see you." 

Lex shook his head. "After three months?" he asked. 

"You seemed busy. I didn't want to bother you." 

"I see. Why now?" 

Clark glanced around. "You took away the Kryptonite statues." 

"Don't change the subject." 

"No, I mean, you took away the Kryptonite statues, and I want to talk to you about... about why you'd do that. It only occurred to me recently that maybe they're gone for a reason." 

Lex sighed. "Clark, it's been a long day... don't look at me like that!" he snapped. Clark's face was the same mask of puppy-eyed tragedy that melted Lex's heart so many times back in Smallville. It was incredible that this look could exist on the same face that expressed Superman's steely resolve. "I thought we'd settled this three months ago," he said impatiently, then turned to leave. 

Instantly, Clark's hand was on his shoulder. Lex started. Clark had been twenty feet away. "Please don't leave me," Clark said. 

Lex didn't turn around. "I can't do this," he ground out. 

"Why not?" Clark cried. "You want to! I want to! We can make this work!" 

"No we can't, Clark," Lex replied, struggling to keep his voice even. "Look at our history. Lies and betrayal destroyed whatever friendship we initially had. And yes, I may have wanted more at one time, but you _never_ looked twice at me, except when you wanted a favour." 

Clarks' hand tightened on Lex's shoulder. He could feel the strength in that grip, fiercely controlled, but terrifying. Lex went on. "When I left Smallville, I assumed I'd never see you or anyone from that period of my life ever again." Lex smirked, though Clark couldn't see it. "Imagine my surprise when Clark Kent turned up with a byline on the front page of _The_ _Daily_ _Planet_." 

"Lex..." 

"Imagine my surprise," Lex went on, his voice raised, "when a vigilante wearing insignia from the Kawatche Caves on his chest shows up in _my_ city -- a vigilante with incredible strength, who shoots heat from his eyes, can see through everything but lead, and flies! Just as I knew one Clark Kent could do!" 

"Okay, but..." 

Lex spun around, facing Clark, his eyes shining with anger. "And then this vigilante, this _Superman_ as the press dubbed him, starts sniffing around LexCorp and my private business, acting like he has a right to pry into everything he knows nothing about! Imagine my... my _shock_ , Clark, that you were investigating me and examining me. After all those righteous accusations you'd hurled at me...." 

"Lex, I had to hide my secret from you then --" 

"It was _my_ life too, Clark! You were so fucking arrogant, waltzing into every dangerous situation in a thirty-mile radius and performing some mind-blowing feat of strength or speed, and then telling me not to wonder! Not to question _how_ or _why_ you could do those things!" 

Clark was silent. 

Lex breathed hard through his nose, trying to calm down. "So, yes, I was pissed off that you'd do these things in front of my eyes, and then lie -- badly -- about them. And, yes, it's a _reason_ for investigating you, but not really an excuse. But I left, Clark. I stopped investigating you, and tried to forget about you. I threw myself into my career. For a while I managed to leave behind the anger, and ... my other feelings. And then you came back into my life, and everything went to hell again. Like it always does." 

Lex stopped talking then. His shoulders sagged with the weight of what he'd just said. It was all out in the open now, everything he'd felt about Clark. 

"But then you had to develop that particle accelerator...." Clark began. 

"That was a completely ethical project, Clark. The Kryptonite ore would have enabled it to achieve a kind of cold fusion that would solve the planet's energy crisis. You shouldn't have interfered." 

"Lex, the thing was about to explode!" 

"So the Kryptonite microrefinement caused a fatal flaw in its crystalline structure. I would have caught it eventually...." 

"Not before the entire facility was fubar." 

"'Fubar?'" 

"Lois says it a lot. It means 'Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.'" 

"Ah. Nice to know Ms. Lane is as devoted a vulgarian as ever." 

"You should have heard her when the barristas went on strike." 

"I still say the particle accelerator was none of your business." 

Clark grimaced. "I know. I know you would have caught it, or contained it. I think I may have known it then, too." His hand came up, gently this time, to clasp Lex's shoulder. His eyes, green with no trace of blue, were pleading. "I'm so sorry, Lex. I couldn't let it go. I was sure you were doing something I didn't know about, something damaging and wrong. I told myself it was my responsibility to keep an eye on you." 

Lex nodded. "Maybe it was," he suggested. 

Clark tilted his head to one side, thinking. "Maybe," he said. "But it was also a way of keeping you in my life. I think my way of relating to you was so distorted by that point that harassing you was the only way I could think to be with you." 

Lex grinned despite Clark's serious tone. "I always suspected you had the interpersonal skills of a seven-year-old." 

A corner of Clark's mouth quirked up. "Yeah, well, I'm all grown up now," he said with a slight leer. The hand on Lex's shoulder began massaging its way up his neck. 

Lex groaned. "Very suave." 

Clark moved in very close to Lex, looking into his eyes. "I hope so," Clark said. Lex's breath caught. He could feel the panic rising up in him. As Clark's other hand came up to circle Lex's neck, Lex stumbled back. He looked at Clark with wide eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Clark," he whispered. 

"What are you afraid of, Lex?" Clark asked. "I'd never betray you, not again. I can offer you warmth, and shelter, and strength. Don't you want that?" 

"I just don't want my whole emotional existence to be... what was Lois's word? Fubar. I don't want to be fubar, Clark." 

"You won't be." Clark was moving in again. Lex backed slowly away, still afraid. "I would never do that to you." 

Lex raised his hands, still backing up. "Clark, please." His legs hit one of the couches facing the balcony doors. 

Clark put his arms around Lex and drew him down onto his lap as he sat on the couch. "Tell me to stop and I will," he breathed, before kissing Lex on the lips. 

Lex fought back the surge of panic, forced himself to experience this. He forced his tense body to relax, made himself put his arms around Clark's waist. He discovered it felt good, being kissed by Clark. The sensations were nothing like his pained performances with girls, put on for the press, or the Excelsior boys, or his father. Clark's lips were firm, his tongue was strong as it caressed Lex's mouth. Clark's arms were comforting, not confining, and his thighs moving and shifting beneath Lex's were intoxicating. It was... nice. 

When Clark's tongue breached Lex's lips and Clark moaned, it was more than nice. Clark's hand came up and caressed the back of Lex's skull. He stiffened slightly, but then relaxed. He hated when people touched his head, but this was wonderful. Clark's fingertips, light as feathers, ran over his skin. It sent shivers all though his body. 

Clark's mouth left his, and migrated towards his ear as Clark's arms drew him even closer. Lex gasped and writhed as Clark's mouth teased his ear, and the untouched skin on his neck. It occurred to Lex to reciprocate, and he tentatively licked the skin below Clark's ear. It tasted salty, and was warm under his tongue. Clark whispered in his ear, "Yessssss. Thank you, thank you." 

Lex pulled back slightly, took in Clark's red lips and heavy-lidded eyes. Greatly daring, he snaked a hand in to unbutton Clark's shirt. It was such luxury, he thought, to be allowed to do this. To be allowed to touch, when before he could only imagine it. He ran his hands over the warm golden skin exposed by the three opened buttons. Clark closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively. 

One of Lex's fingers caught on Clark's nipple. Clark arched and gasped, his eyes shooting open. Lex froze, his eyes on Clark's. 

"I'm sorry," Lex said softly. 

"No," Clark breathed. "It's amazing. Do it again?" 

Lex carefully slid his hand back, his index finger gently touching the hard nub of Clark's nipple. Clark made high-pitched breathy sounds, his head lolling back. More confident, Lex tweaked the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly. Clark gasped and bucked beneath him. He pulled Lex's face to his and kissed him deeply. 

Lex's breath caught. He could feel Clark's erection pressing against his thigh. Clark pulled back and held Lex's face between his hands. "Are you okay?" Lex nodded. "We can stop any time. I promise. If it's too much..." 

"No," Lex said firmly. "I want to do this. Now. With you, Clark." Lex put his hand down between them, right on Clark's groin. Clark gasped, his eyes widening. 

Lex gently traced the outline of Clark's hard cock with his fingers. Even through the thick denim, he could feel it. Lex realized that he wanted more; that he wasn't terrified. 

Lex untucked Clark's shirt and tried to pull it off entirely. Clark eagerly shed it. Lex fumbled with the button on his fly, scrambling to open it. Clark helped, pulling his pants open and leaning back slightly. Suddenly shy, Lex couldn't look down. He put his hand carefully on Clark's cock without looking, feeling it in his hand, hard and warm and silky. He mapped its shape with his palm, grasping the shaft, gently exploring the rounded head with his fingertips, spreading its leaking moisture. 

"God, Lex, oh this is so good, you're so perfect," Clark panted. "Yes, just like that." 

Lex forced himself to look, first into Clark's face, then down at his erection. Lex stared at his hand, white and small-looking, grasping Clark's hard, swollen, purple cock. Nothing had prepared him for this, not glimpses of pornography, not ancient Greek art, not walking in on roommates at Excelsior, certainly not anything he'd done to himself. It was profoundly visceral. Lex's entire being was caught up in the act of running his fist up and down Clark's shaft. Clark's hips bucked, but his arms held Lex in place on his lap. Lex marvelled -- Clark's cock was getting even harder. He wondered when Clark was going to.... 

Suddenly, Clark made a strangled noise. "Now!" he grunted, and his whole body stiffened. He pulsed in Lex's hand, and his semen shot out between their bodies. 

Lex held Clark's throbbing cock gently, in awe of what he had just done. Clark's arms tightened around Lex, pulling him into an embrace. "I love you," Clark whispered in Lex's ear. "You're incredible." 

Lex didn't say anything. Just rested his head on Clark's bare shoulder, brought his clean hand up to stroke Clark's soft hair. 

After several moments like this, Clark leaned back. "I'd better clean us up," he said, "or we'll be glued together." 

"And that would be a problem?" Lex asked dazedly. 

"In itself, no," Clark said, smiling. "But I'd hate to explain it to Lois. Or to my mom." 

Lex groaned. "Your mom. Consider my buzz harshed." 

Clark, grinning, grabbed his shirt off the floor and used it to mop off his chest and Lex's hand. "Uh, sorry about your shirt," he said, eyeing the spattered garment with some chagrin. 

Lex looked down at it, then made a quick decision. He quickly pulled it off and over his head, looking almost defiantly at Clark. Clark was openly staring at Lex. Lex suddenly regretted tearing off his shirt. He was in decent shape, but compared to Clark he felt skinny and pale. No one besides Toby had seen Lex naked since he was a child. With the possible exceptions of Clark and his alien supercomputer, though Lex _had_ been unconscious for the naked part of that rescue. 

"You're gorgeous," Clark said, placing his hands on Lex's shoulders and sliding them appreciatively down his arms. "So incredible..." he murmured, touching Lex's stomach, his chest, his ribs. Lex just breathed, caught between discomfort and pleasure. When Clark leaned in and began placing soft kisses all over Lex's chest, the discomfort began to ease away. Clark's mouth latched on to a nipple, and Lex jolted so hard he would have fallen off the couch if Clark hadn't been holding him. Despite several advanced biology and anatomy classes, Lex had had _no_ _idea_ that his nipples were directly linked to his cock. No wonder Clark had gone wild when Lex touched his. The sensation was _incredible_. He pushed into Clark's mouth, panting. 

When Clark's hand dropped down to cup Lex's groin, Lex jerked so hard he cracked his chin on Clark's head. 

"Oh God, I'm sorry Lex!" Clark immediately pulled back. His lips were red and shiny. "I shouldn't have... I'm sorry." 

Lex breathed hard, pushing the panic down once more. He rubbed his chin -- it wasn't bruised. Unlike his dignity at that moment. Easy, Luthor, he told himself. Nothing to be afraid of here. "It's okay, Clark," he said slowly, cursing the wobble in his voice. "Just wasn't expecting that." 

"My hand, or that you're hard?" 

"...Both." 

"Okay. Is it all right for me to touch now?" 

Lex nodded. He watched Clark's hand slowly reach down and lay on his crotch. The shock had wilted his erection a little, but it revived somewhat under Clark's hand. Lex forced himself to relax. Clark's fingers curled around him, stroking gently. 

Lex looked into Clark's eyes. He wondered what Clark was thinking. Lex found himself feverishly hoping he measured up to Clark's other lovers. But that was a pointless line of inquiry. Besides, Clark was with _Lex_ now, not any of the others. That was the important thing. 

Soon, Lex stopped thinking about anything other than Clark's eyes intent on his face, and Clark's hand rubbing slowly up and down Lex's fully hard cock. 

Lex's hips involuntarily bucked up into Clark's hand. He couldn't believe how good it felt. The pleasure was so overwhelming, it pushed the panic out entirely. He relaxed completely, clinging to Clark. 

Clark abruptly pushed Lex gently off his lap. "Clark, what the -- ?" 

"Here. Let me..." Clark was kneeling on the floor, leaning in between Lex's knees. He ran his hands down Lex's bare torso, coming to rest on the band of his trousers. Watching Lex's eyes the entire time, Clark slowly opened the fly and pulled Lex's erection out. Lex shuddered at the sensation of Clark's warm hands directly on him. 

Slowly, so Lex could see what he was doing, Clark leaned his face towards Lex's lap. It was incredibly arousing to watch. Lex shuddered, his cock twitching and leaking. When Clark's lips delicately touched him, he made a loud keening sound he hadn't thought he'd be capable of making. 

It was overwhelming, how long he'd wanted this, how many times he'd played out a scenario like this in his head. For Clark to be looking at him now, with such longing in his eyes, as his mouth worked up and down Lex's cock, Lex's hands gently resting in Clark's soft, dark hair, it was beyond belief. It was the pinnacle of Lex's life. He thought to himself, Please let me die, right now. Let me die happy, and loved, and held, before I fuck it all up again. 

Lex didn't last long. He felt all the blood suddenly rush to his lower regions, and pulled, a little desperately, on Clark's hair. Clark didn't let go of him, but brought his hands up to cup Lex's ass, to pull him even deeper into Clark's throat. It was too much; Lex fell over the edge, waves of pleasure washing through him, spending himself and shooting down Clark's throat, holding Clark's head. 

Clark eased him down through the aftershocks with soft kisses, which slowly travelled up Lex's torso and throat until he was kissing Lex' mouth. Lex opened to him willingly, languorous and sated. He could taste himself in Clark's mouth. He would have thought that would be disgusting, but it was intimate, somehow, and endearing. 

Breaking away, Lex closed his eyes and leaned into Clark. Clark's arms went around him and held him close. Lex had done it -- he had finally had sexual contact with someone, and he hadn't gone insane. He'd held it together. It was... nice. It was wonderful. He felt calm and satisfied. 

And deeply in love with Clark. That ought to have alarmed him, but really, he felt that way all along. Sex didn't change that, it just made it more real, more tangible. He might have been afraid that Clark would leave him after this, but even Lex, with his bred-in-the-bone cynicism couldn't believe that. Not now. Maybe later. 

Lex turned his head and buried his nose in Clark's curls. He'd never really touched someone's hair before. The women he'd performed with always had stiff hairspray or slimy goop in their hair, and he avoided touching it. Clark's was just soft. 

Clark's hands came up to cradle Lex's head, and he pulled back so they were facing each other. "Hey," said Clark, "are you okay?" 

Lex nodded, and smiled. Clark smiled right back, that bright, thousand-watt smile Lex had never seen on Superman. It still made his stomach flutter a little. He felt like a teenager all over again. He ought to have been ashamed of himself, allowing himself to be so vulnerable. He was still hanging out of his trousers for fuck's sake. Lex decided that he deserved a second childhood, seeing as he hadn't really ever had a first childhood. 

"Good," Clark replied. "I'm okay too." 

"Well, now that our mutual okay-ness has been established," Lex said, "I'm wondering: what do we do now?" 

"I'd like to suggest we adjourn to your bedroom, curl up together, and go to sleep. I don't know about you, but I've had a long day. First, I had to cover a municipal council meeting about whether to reduce the timing of stoplights by 23 seconds. Then a bridge collapsed in India, and on the way back I..." 

"Clark," Lex interrupted softly. "I'm not sure... that is, I...." 

"Oh." Clark's face fell, though he tried to hide it. "You can't sleep with me. I mean, I understand. Emotionally, it's a big step. And this was your first time..." Clark tenderly stroked Lex's cheek. 

"I'm sorry," Lex whispered. 

"I can wait," Clark replied. 

"Can you?" Lex asked, though he knew. 

Clark kissed him once on the lips. "I've waited this long. I can wait as long as you need." Clark stood, tucking himself back into his jeans and zipping them. Lex followed suit. Clark took both of Lex's hands in his. "Thank you for trusting me. For letting me have this." 

Lex smiled at him. After all these years, to have this. It was transformative. It was an epiphany. Lex felt shriven, and blessed, and a little like something was going to fuck this up any moment now. But only a little. 

"Oh!" Clark suddenly exclaimed. "I was supposed to tell you that Mom says you're invited to Sunday dinner." 

Lex raised his eyebrows. "I suppose that was your excuse for stopping by." 

"No. But that's what I'm telling Mom if she asks." 

"So you're not going to...?" 

"Actually, I think I will. _Before_ Sunday. I wouldn't force you to sit through the epic clash that will no doubt ensue from my telling Mom that her only son is not only gay, but dating Lex Luthor." 

"Hm. She may already have some idea." 

Clark was speechless. For about three seconds. " _What_?!? I mean, did she say something to you?" 

Lex was smiling now. "Maybe. You'd better talk to her anyway. I'm staying here until Sunday. If she's going to attack me, it's going to be on my turf, not hers." 

"Fine, Mr. Nefarious Villain." Clark smiled back, and God, Lex was never going to get tired of that smile. "I can pick you up at 5:00 on Sunday. You'll just have to get over your fear of flying before then." Clark toed on the shoes and socks he'd managed to discard earlier. He gingerly picked up his stained shirt, but didn't put it on. Then he bent toward Lex and kissed him sweetly. "Can I come by tomorrow night?" 

"Yeah," said Lex. "Please." 

"Great. See you tomorrow." Clark streaked back out the balcony doors with a _whoosh_. 

Lex collected his discarded garments and tossed them in the hamper in the bedroom. Shrugging on a housecoat over his trousers, he picked up Mercy's comm device and flipped it on. 

"Yes?" came Mercy's clipped greeting. 

"Mercy. How are you?" 

"Fine," she replied suspiciously. "Is something wrong, Lex?" 

"No," he said cheerfully. "Everything is just great. Thanks for asking." 

There was a peeved silence from Mercy's end. Lex was richly amused. 

"Listen," he went on, "I'd like to re-open the mansion at Smallville. I think I'll be living there on the weekends." 

"Oh _really_ ," was Mercy's sly answer. Lex suddenly regretted his glibness earlier. Apparently, Mercy and Hope had been talking, and he suspected Mercy would... well, would show no mercy. "Any particular reason?" 

"I'll be spending time with an old friend," Lex replied neutrally. He hoped. 

"How _delightful_." Was she laughing? It was hard to tell with the tinny speakers. Lex would have to find a way to improve that. "I'll get a team working on it right away. It should be ready in three days, four at the most. Any special extras I should have them add? Bathtub with room for two? Massage oils in the bedside drawer? Or handcuffs?" 

She was definitely snickering now. "That won't be necessary, Mercy," Lex said darkly. 

"Oh, he prefers to bring his own does he?" 

"Mercy..." 

"I wouldn't have thought. I mean, he works that wholesome image pretty hard." 

"Do you enjoy your job?" 

"It's always the ones you least suspect." 

"My cousin Blandine's in Metropolis, and looking for work." 

Mercy huffed. "You wouldn't." 

"Maybe. You got any more comments to make?" 

"No sir." The teasing tone was still there, of course. But Lex decided he could live with it. He'd given Mercy enough of a hard time when Hope was courting her. She owed him. 

"Good. Let me know when the mansion is ready for me." He flipped the device shut. Damn, had everyone in his life known about him and Clark before Lex himself did? Perhaps it was time for some self-examination. A bit of introspection, away from the distractions of the big city. Perhaps a weekend in the country.... 

Lex reflected on how everything he could have wanted seemed to have come to pass. No guarantee it would last, of course, but he would take what he could get. Just over three months ago, Lex had been at rock-bottom, unable to do anything about Edge's atrocities, beaten and bloody, waiting for a bomb to tick away the last seconds of his life. Then, when least expected, Clark had saved him. Again. Now he was happier than he could ever remember being. And to think, he owed it all to.... 

Suddenly, Lex had a wonderful idea. 

* * *

In a jail in West Africa, Morgan Edge received a bouquet of lilies. The card inexplicably read, "Thanks f.or the beating of a lifetime. LL." 


End file.
